


Bloody Face Imagine

by Farmiga is goals (Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson)



Category: American Horror Story: Asylum
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-07
Updated: 2014-12-07
Packaged: 2018-02-28 12:26:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2732477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Loki_Likey_Thor_Odinson/pseuds/Farmiga%20is%20goals
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I entered an imagine contest with this</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bloody Face Imagine

When Oliver left the house, you didn’t think much of it. When Oliver came back well into the night, you never thought he was doing anything but working late. When you heard the news about those poor murdered girl, you didn’t think anything odd about Oliver’s late night working. When it was said that the automobile worker, Kat or Kit, was arguing his sanity, and then Oliver worked to get a permanent position at Briarcliff... Things started to seem wrong. You were starting to wonder about him; back to that night where he had gone out late and come home even later, and when you asked where he had been, he just grunted out “work”. That was definitely not the Oliver you were married too.  
  
~~~~

So one night, you decided to head into his office. He was working late at the asylum, so there was no reason to be worried. You were merely reading through some papers that weren’t to do with his patients before you come across his diary. Journal. Whatever it was that he called it. Hesitantly, you open it, scanning the dates in the oh so familiar calligraphy. Once you spot the date, you stop and look around the dark room, licking your lips before settling down in the leather chair. Your eyes look back down at the page and start to scan.  
  
~~~~  
  
“You shouldn’t be reading that.”  
  
Your eyes shoot up from the page to stare at Oliver in the doorway, a knife glinting in his hand. You swallow hard.  
  
“You framed that poor boy. That decent, hard-working boy!”  
  
“Would you have preferred to lose me?”  
  
“You murdered those girls! They did nothing to you! Nothing!”  
  
You jump up, tears running down his face. You begin to move to push past him, but he puts his hand up, easily pushing you against the wall. You freeze as the knife brushes against your cheek before snapping out of it, pushing him away and running out and down the stairs with a scream for help. There is no doubt in your mind that Oliver will try to silence you; to keep his secret safe and his freedom secure.  
  
~~~~  
  
You run into the kitchen, grabbing for the knife block – which has been moved. It’s gone, disappeared. Dread fills your heart more, starting to run through your veins; your blood itself is moving slower, then faster, then slower. You spin around, running to the front door. It’s locked. Of course it is. You can hear Oliver calling your name softly; can trace his heavy footsteps as he walks across the landing and hallway, opening the doors in the house to look for you. You run into the living room as silently as you can, straight into the storage cupboard. You shut it and peer through the slats, hand over your mouth to try and keep your breathing silent. You can hear Oliver as he thuds down the stairs, his voice almost childlike as he calls your name a few times. You can see him as he enters the room. And you freeze.  
  
~~~~  
  
The Bloody Face mask is on, and his eyes are scanning the room. You watch them fall on the cupboard door, and you feel tears well up. You know that it’s not going to end well tonight. He takes soft steps towards the door, hand reached out for the doorknob. The door opens and you burst out, trying to run; but his arms encircle around your waist. Oliver tugs you close to him, knife trailing down your cheek. A sob escapes your lips as he chucks you easily onto the couch, moving slowly towards you, head tilted. You can’t breathe. The knife is pressed into your skin and you close your eyes to whimper. You can feel blood trickling down your cheek. You open your eyes again, staring into the eyes of the man you once loved. He lifts his arm.  
  
“I love you, Y/N.”


End file.
